where Bob had left his silver fox. The moon was full, and the frost
that clung to the trees and bushes sparkled like flakes of silver. The
aurora faintly searched the northern sky. A rabbit, white and
spectre-like, scurried across the half-breed's path, but he did not
notice it. Hour after hour his never tiring feet swung the wide
snow-shoes in and out with a rhythmic chug-chug as he ran on.

It was nearly morning when at length he slackened his pace, and with
the caution of the lifelong hunter approached the tilt as he would
have stalked an animal. He made quite certain that the shack was
untenanted, then entered boldly. He struck a match and found a candle,
which he lighted. There was the silver fox, where Bob had left it. It
was dry enough to remove from the board and he loosened it and pulled
it off. He examined it critically and gloated over it.

"As black an' fine a one as I ever seen!" he exclaimed. "It'll bring a
big price at Mingen. That boy'll never see it again, an' I'll clean
out th' rest o' th' fur too, at th' river. Old Campbell'll be sorry
when I get through with 'em, he let that feller hunt th' path. He's a
fool, an' if he gives me th' slip he'll go back an' say th' Mingen
Injuns took his fur. I fixed that wi' my story all right. I'll take
th' lot t' Mingen an' get cash fer 'em, an' be back t' th' Bay with
open water with 'nuff martens so's they won't suspect me."

He started a fire and slept until shortly after daylight. Then had
breakfast and started down the trail towards the river at the same
rapid pace that he had held before.

It was not quite dark when he glimpsed the tilt, and approached it
with even more caution than he had observed above.